Promise at Pebble Creek

by Lisa Jones Baker

  The bell above the door startled Hannah, and she turned toward the sound before saying to Scarlet, “I’ll feed you after I take care of this customer.”

  Marcus entered with a warm smile. “Morning, Hannah.”

  Running her hand over her apron to smooth out the wrinkles and get rid of the dust, she quickly stepped toward him, waving her hand in a happy greeting.

  “Hello, Marcus. It’s gut to see you.” After a slight pause while he closed the door behind him, she arched a brow and edged her voice with curiosity. “Did you get much done on the barn?”

  He nodded with satisfaction and made his way to the jelly shelf. “We’re making headway.”

  She glanced at the empty shelves and joined him. “Oh . . . I’m sorry. I was just about to restock.”

  He let out a low whistle. “I see you’ve done a lot of business since I last came in.”

  “Jah.” She cleared a knot from her throat. “Mostly this morning. Business always picks up every year around this time.”

  “That’s good to hear.” He focused on the empty shelf. He offered her a faux look of disappointment. “But bad news for me.” He offered a shrug. “Guess I’ll have to leave empty-handed.”

  She shook her head and waved her hand in front of her. “That’s not necessary.” She turned and motioned to the large box against the back wall. “Daed brought more . . . unfortunately, I’ve misplaced my scissors.”

  His eyes lit up. “Then it looks like I stopped by at the right time.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small pocketknife. “You need it opened?” He followed her gaze to the taped box.

  She nodded.

  “This one?” He knelt and pointed to the box she’d motioned to. Hannah eyed the others that lined the wall.

  “Jah.”

  He knelt and opened the cardboard box. With a smile, Hannah looked down at the new stock of raspberry jelly. “Denki.” After a short pause, she corrected, “Thank you.”

  He stood and grinned down at her. “I’m getting pretty savvy with your German words.” He winked.

  “Oh yeah?”

  He offered a proud nod. “In fact, I have a confession to make.”

  She looked at him to continue.

  “I took German in high school. Little did I know that I might actually use it someday.”

  “I’m sure you’re aware that we might not necessarily be understood in Germany. I mean, our dialect is just for our particular area.”

  “That makes sense.” After a short silence, he eyed the open box before directing his attention back to her face. “You want me to carry that over to the shelves for you?”

  Before she could respond, he added with an amused curve of his lips, “Believe me, I have an ulterior motive. I’d hate to leave here without your famous raspberry jelly.”

  She beamed. “I’m so glad you like it.”

  “Like it?”

  He bent down and lifted the box. While he transported it, she followed him. After he’d placed the heavy container between the empty shelves, he stood and answered, “If you want my honest opinion, there’s not a strong-enough word to describe the taste. Ms. Lapp, I’ve eaten jelly my entire life. And yours . . .” He let out a low whistle. “It would win any contest in the country.”

  She laughed. Not really because of what he’d just told her, but because of the way his face had displayed such an exaggerated expression. The tone of his voice, too.

  “And while I’m here . . .” He paused as he eyed the large number of stock. “Let me help you put these jars back.”

  She waved her hands in front of her. “Thanks, but you’ve done enough already. I appreciate your kind offer, though. Besides, I’m sure you’ve got other things to do besides help me in the shop.”

  He began walking toward the cash register and pulled his leather wallet from his pocket to pay. Hannah quickly stopped him with her voice before he’d removed the cash. “This one’s on the house.”

  Not looking up, he continued to pull out some singles. “I insist. Your offer’s certainly generous, but I’m sure your shop won’t profit if you comp everyone who comes in.”

  She lowered her hand, accidentally brushing his fingers. Slightly embarrassed by the feeling of his warm skin under hers, she continued to insist that he not pay. “Of course I’m not in business to give things away, but this time it’s for helping with my brother’s barn raising. Besides, generosity is a gut thing, jah?”

  She lifted a challenging brow and curved her lips upward another notch. “So you should accept my token of appreciation.”

  Finally, he offered a nod of acceptance. “Point taken. But all in all, I’m definitely getting the better end of the deal.”

  As they stood close to each other, Hannah’s heart warmed. For long moments, neither said anything. But the lengthy silence was anything but uncomfortable. In fact, Hannah enjoyed every moment. She savored the sweet sensation.

  As they chitchatted, Hannah tried to think of a reason why the way Marcus made her feel was different from how she felt around the single Amish men she knew.

  Why? What is it that’s different this time? She lifted her chin a notch. He made her feel special. That’s what it was. And her instincts told her that his words and actions were genuine. It was just how he was. Calm, easygoing, and . . . As hard as she tried, she wasn’t able to come up with a word that truly justified it.

  “It was really nice of you to help with Ben’s barn.”

  For a moment, Marcus looked down at his brown leather boots before lifting his chin to look at her. “I intend to work ’til the finish. Because of Ben, I’ve got a place to live.”

  He grinned.

  “What?”

  “Oh, I was just thinking that the meal you helped to serve was worth every minute of work I put in.”

  They laughed.

  Several heartbeats later, he went on with a slight curve of his lips. “And come to think of it . . . Ms. Lapp, you’re the one who I owe for that delicious meal. You told me to reach out to Ben.” He grinned. “Which means I owe you another favor.”

  Hannah shook her head and laughed. “I’m glad I could help. But our Lord and Savior wasn’t about to let you down, Marcus Jackson. And I believe He’ll continue to protect you and watch over you.”

  Moisture formed on his pupils. Her statement prompted a lengthy, thoughtful silence. Finally, when Marcus spoke, grateful emotion edged his voice. “It’s a whole new world for me, Hannah. Right now, I have no idea what path my life’s gonna take; I’m just happy He will guide me.”

  Hannah’s voice softened. “I don’t want to pry or anything, but what caused you to believe? I mean, you said that your relationship with Christ was new.”

  Marcus glanced out of the front window. When he started to explain, his voice quivered with emotion. “To make a long story short, a friend took me to church in the city.” He seemed to clear an emotional knot from his throat. “I nearly didn’t go. But I did to get out of . . .” He stopped, and Hannah wondered what he’d been about to say. “It’s the best investment of my time I’ve ever made, Hannah,” he finished.

  The pitch of his voice softened so she could barely hear him. “Inside, I’m a different person. There I was, sitting in my pew when the minister said something I’ll never forget.”

  Hannah didn’t look away. In fact, she couldn’t. Because his expression was so sincere. So genuine. “What did he say?”

  Marcus paused while offering a slight lift of his chin. “That it doesn’t matter who your parents are. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done. That it’s all about who you know.”

  She whispered, “Jesus.”

  He nodded. Then, he smiled and offered her a wink. “I would love to stay here all day and talk to you, but I’d better let you get back to work.” He arched a mischievous brow. “And I’d better do the same or your brother will wonder what happened to me.”

  After they said goodbye, she watched the door close behind him and listen
ed to his car engine start. For long moments, Hannah stood, contemplating the conversation they’d just shared. And how she hadn’t been able to contain her smile since the moment he’d stepped inside Amish Edibles.

  Time to get back to work. First things first. And that meant organizing the new jelly containers to appear attractive and appealing to customers. As she approached one of the shelves, her gaze landed on a metal clip stuffed with money. She bent to pick up the clip as her pulse zoomed at a nervous pace at the sight of the initials MJ and the hundred-dollar bills. She’d never seen so many at one time. Even in the store’s cash register, this many large bills was an anomaly.

  Obviously, the engraved clip belonged to Marcus. It must have slipped out of his wallet when he pulled it from his pocket. She rushed to the door and stepped outside. She could still see his car in the distance on the blacktop. And she waved her hands to try to get his attention. But he was gone.

  Chapter Four

  At Cabot a couple of hours later, Marcus removed his protective goggles and gloves. As he ran his fingers through his hair, an unexpected surge of energy swept up his arms and landed comfortably in his shoulders.

  He didn’t doubt the source of the much-appreciated energy. It was Hannah. Each time he’d spoken to her, he’d felt renewed.

  A quick glance at his silver Casio watch told him it was break time. He carefully moved his equipment and protective hood and returned them to their normal storage spots. He looked down at his work and smiled satisfaction at the corroded pipes he had fixed for an outside contractor.

  He’d often been told that he was a perfectionist, but his father had always stressed doing one’s best, whether it was a small job or a large one. That a person’s work showed what he was like on the inside. Marcus had heeded his father’s words. He naturally had a critical eye, but it was important to him to display his very best work.

  Today, he was welding fittings into pipes. The processing piping would be used for transporting ground-up corn that would eventually be made into syrup.

  The air conditioner kicked in, and he stepped forward to take advantage of the cold air coming from the ceiling as it hit his neck. As he enjoyed the welcome comfort of the coolness, he looked ahead of him at the tubes upon tubes that loomed throughout the large area of workspace. There was plenty to do; that was for sure.

  Right now, he was responsible for angling the metal so it would bend where it was supposed to. He took in the flanges on the worktable that would be welded into the tubes. Air coming from the vents carried the unpleasant scent of epoxy, a thickening agent.

  Finally, he let out a sigh. Time to step outside for a break. His coworkers had already started their ten minutes, and the vast area of the shop was devoid of people with the exception of himself.

  He stepped to the small washroom, where he soaped his hands, rinsed them, and dried his palms on a paper towel, which he quickly discarded in the trash can.

  As the sound of laughter floated in from the outside, he proceeded to step to the lounge to the employees’ refrigerator. Marcus pulled open the door’s silver handle, bent, and reached inside for a bottle of Arrowhead Water.

  After closing the door, he unscrewed the top and took a couple of swigs. Afterward, he bent to pull his newest container of raspberry jelly from Amish Edibles. He proceeded to the pantry, where he opened the plastic container of homemade bread that Hannah had sent with him.

  He spread peanut butter and jelly onto a delicious-smelling slice, pressed another piece on top, and took a bite. As he enjoyed the taste, he closed his eyes for a moment while he recalled the happy expression on Hannah’s face as she’d attempted to convince him that she owed him the jelly and bread.

  While he smiled, he placed the jar lid on the container and screwed it back into place. Same with the Jif lid. He left the room and stepped toward the exit that led to the parking lot, where he and his coworkers spent their breaks.

  With his right hand, he held the sandwich. Automatically, he shoved his free hand into his deep jeans pocket as he made his way toward the door. Stopping, he narrowed his brows. His wallet wasn’t thick. He pulled it from his pocket and opened it. His money clip and the cash inside it were gone.

  Tapping the toe of his boot nervously against the floor, he pondered where his savings could be. Finally, he decided the clip must be in a different pocket. Impatiently, he switched the sandwich to his other hand and shoved his fingers into his front pocket. Then his back.

  Finally, he put his lunch on a shelf on the side wall that led to the back. Using both hands, he felt around in all his pockets. Letting out a frustrated breath, he repeated the actions.

  Where is it? He stiffened and pressed his lips into a straight line as he tried to recall when he’d last used it. The money was definitely important to him, being that it was all he had to live on until his first paycheck. But more important was the silver clip with his initials on it that held the bills in place.

  The cash could be replaced. The clip couldn’t, because it had been given to him on his tenth birthday by his dad. For a moment, Marcus thought his fast-paced heartbeat would jump right out of his black T-shirt.

  Be calm. It must be in the car. Quick steps took him outside, where he clicked the lock of his Chevy. Inside, he checked under the seat. In front of it. Behind it. In the middle console. Inside the driver’s door pocket.

  A friendly pat on his shoulder made him look up.

  “You lookin’ for something?”

  Marcus found himself face-to-face with Ben Lapp. The last thing he wanted right now was to have a conversation with his landlord about why on earth he’d had such a wad of money on him.

  Marcus wasn’t quite ready to share that he had left the Windy City because his brothers were in trouble with the law, that they’d tried to drag him into their trouble, and because of that, he’d fled with three months’ salary in cash to start over. He wasn’t ready to discuss it.

  He noted the concern etched around Ben’s mouth. Marcus needed to respond, so he tried his best. “I misplaced something. But it’ll show up.”

  When Ben stared at him with an expression that was a combination of strong curiosity and uncertainty, Marcus let out a defeated sigh. He motioned to the nearby wooden bench. At the same time, they sat next to each other. And Marcus told Ben most everything.

  * * *

  Soon after Hannah’s discovery, a handful of women stepped inside Amish Edibles. As their voices broke the silence, Hannah quickly slipped the wad of cash back into the money clip and stashed it behind The Adventures of Sydney and Carson, which she hid on the shelf near the cash register.

  She had to hide it somewhere, and the voices coming into her shop told her that she didn’t have long to decide where. Trying to stop her hands from shaking, she stepped forward and welcomed them. “Morning! Happy shopping! If I can be of help, please let me know.”

  Immediately, she recognized the customers. They belonged to her church, and their families had known each other for years. As Hannah watched them file in, the last one, Martha Wagler, closed the door behind her.

  Hannah couldn’t stop a smile from tugging at the corners of her lips. Martha was a widow who’d lost her husband years ago. Hannah was fully aware of the unkind joke that went around about her: that her husband had died from the tart taste of Martha’s sugarless pies. Whoever had started the joke had been in the wrong. Plain and simple.

  Still, Hannah was quick to recall the moment she’d once bitten into one of the pastries at a wedding and had quickly rushed to a washroom, where she’d spit out the bitter taste.

  The mélange of voices drew her back to the present. There was the high pitch of the two Troyer sisters. There was also the fast-talking, newly married Mrs. Schultz. Leading the group was one of Hannah’s teachers from over a decade before, Mrs. Graber.

  Hannah had never known her first name; Hannah only knew her as Mrs. Graber. But thoughts of her quickly floated into Hannah’s mind in a fond way. The old teacher was ea
sily recognizable throughout the community for her twitching eyebrow. When Hannah had been one of her pupils, she’d routinely watched for Mrs. Graber’s sign of disapproval, which was that twitching brow.

  No doubt Hannah was fully aware that it had been a blessing from Gott that she hadn’t been born with such a negative identification mark. Whenever Mrs. Graber had scolded a student, her brow would twitch, and the habit had made for numerous jokes.

  Despite that, Hannah knew what was inside her former teacher. Although Mrs. Graber had always presented an unbending impression, Hannah knew that the woman who was quick to correct grammar slipups had an especially kind heart.

  One particular event had carved a special place for Hannah’s teacher in her own heart. Before Christmas break, Hannah had accidentally left a story she’d written for English class at home and, therefore, hadn’t turned it in on time.

  The moment Hannah had noticed the missing paper she’d spent days writing, she’d attempted a reasonable explanation. That day, when school ended, Hannah had stayed behind the other kids and approached Mrs. Graber with shaky hands.

  Hannah would never forget the moment she’d explained what had happened. An apology had come out of her mouth, and to her amazement, Mrs. Graber had smiled a little and offered Hannah a soft, affectionate pat on her shoulder.

  When she’d spoken, the expected cross tone had been accompanied with a much-needed and unexpected reassurance.

  “Not to worry, Hannah,” she’d spoken in a soft, forgiving voice. “You’ve never once been late with a paper, and surely everyone’s allowed a mistake, jah?”

  That very response still made Hannah’s jaw drop in surprise. In a nervous yet grateful tone, she’d replied, “Denki, Mrs. Graber.”

  The teacher had then offered another surprise when she’d winked at Hannah. “Besides, I’m sure your paper will be worth the wait.” A grin had tugged those usually stern lips upward, and the words that had followed had stunned Hannah even more.